Secret
by Vallentyne
Summary: When I saw her again, as she truly was, the only thing that remained of the vision was the haunting green eyes whose colors seemed to wave and melt like the ocean during a storm. All of the beauty was gone, sucked right back up into those beautiful eyes.


**A/N: Hi guys! I'd just like to introduce myself; my name is Vallentyne. This is something that literally came out of nowhere but its different than any other fanfic ideas ive had so i figured i'd try it. I totally won't be offended if you don't like it, and I definitely will need advice about the story's progression. I'm trying to avoid yet another Mary Sue-esque fic, so lemme now if this starts heading that way. **

**So quick recap: feel free to help me with story**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, please don't sue me.**

Chapter 1: Eyes

"Oh Merlin I-I'm so s-sorry Tom! I-I mean Sir! Mr. Riddle!" a quivering voice squealed.

'what the bloody hell is wrong with this bint?'

"oh it's no problem at all Miss Phorkys. It was my fault anyways; I should really pay more attention to where I'm going. Here, let me help you with that." I said as I leaned down to help her pick up her fallen books and hide the grimace forming on my face. First the idiot can't walk without hitting someone then she can't even properly apologize?

I remembered Phorkys. She was sorted into Slytherin just before I was in our first year. Honestly, I've no idea how that girl could possibly belong to the noble house of Salazar Slytherin. She wasn't much to look at with her messy dishwater blonde hair hiding her face. It seemed she always looked down when someone spoke to her. But that was just the way she was. If there was anything at all remarkable about Phorkys it was her unrivaled mediocrity. You could search the world over and I truly don't think you could find anyone as completely ordinary as Whatever-Her-First-Name-Is Phorkys.

The trembling mess of a girl shuffled away from me without a backward glance and I wouldn't have noticed anything if she hadn't just barely brushed by my arm as she walked by. When the back of her hand touched the bare skin of my forearm, I felt her magic. It completely contradicted the tiny, insignificant girl. In that brief moment that I felt it, her magic was a raging vortex of power and force, ready to consume and destroy anything that lay in its path. Taking one last look at the blithering fool of a girl, I determined it must have just been a static shock that reflected back my own magic.

Nearly forgetting my encounter with Phorkys, I began my stroll back to my common room. Perhaps it was time to initiate another meeting?

"Abraxas. Get Black here now. Call them all. I feel as though I haven't talked to you all in ages. Don't you think it's time we caught up?" I smirked at the veela boy on the black leather couch. My smirk grew a little wider when the large beater scrambled up out of his seat to fetch the others, dropping his book and nearly tripping over a table to get them quickly.

This reaction right here is why I do what I do. Power. Power is everything. It gives you dominance over others, it provides control.

I let my dark magic crackle out around me as I sat in our special corner. No one else was in the common room, so why not let loose and allow my magic this small freedom? The smirk returned when I saw the boys stand before me and await my invitation to sit down. Because, like I said, power means control, and when you hold all the power, you hold all the control.

One rather successful meeting later, I chose to make my appearance in the Great Hall. It was, after all, seven o'clock, which meant I could avoid Livia. I had used my charm and wit to get closer to the girl's father, a rather prominent auror and the current patriarch of the Parkinson family. Now, it seems, the little fifth year won't stop pestering me. That, I suppose, is the price one pays for good looks and success. I personally never cared much for my appearance. While some boys, like Abraxas Malfoy, would spend hours getting their hair to lay just right, I would hatch a brilliant plan to acquire a new contact. Looks are fleeting. Power, however, is much more permanent. While I myself did not care much about looks, I was aware that several women of all ages found me "devilishly handsome" and I did not hesitate to use this to my advantage. I still remember seducing my auror contact out of Livia.

She was just passing me in the halls when I walked a little into her, just enough to topple her pile of library books. Feigning repentance, I hurriedly picked up her things and kissed her hand in apology, visibly shaking with nerves. I walked her to her class and just before we got there, she stopped me. She reached over and took my hand and I feigned ignorance as to what she wanted. I watched the blood rush to her cheeks and I stared directly into her muddy brown eyes. I leaned in slowly before I hesitated a moment, the way I'm sure the normal nervous teenage boy in love I was portraying would have, before kissing her on her blushing cheek.

She hadn't left me alone since. Huh. I bumped into Phorkys the very same way I hit Parkinson. Dear Merlin I hope that sniveling mess doesn't leech onto me too! At least Livia is something pretty enough to look at.

Ah well. I can always just smile at the girl. Perhaps she'd stutter herself to death?

I strode into the Great Hall and walked over to the table. I occasionally sat amid my jeering housemates, but today, I felt more like sitting alone. As I reached towards the platter of roast duck in front of me, Phorkys caught my eye. I hadn't realized she sat so far away from everyone. I leaned back and resigned myself to watching little miss boring do absolutely nothing like always.

After that meal, I began noticing Phorkys's wavy hair everywhere: in the courtyard, in herbology, even reading outside by the whomping willow. The reading part especially intrigued me. I was certain the tree was guarding something, but the only living creature I'd seen get close to it without being brutally mauled was Phorkys. I bet I could pull it right out of her mind. And with that shiny thought, I resolved to try. I began watching her during class. She took all the advanced classes I took: NEWT level potions, charms, transfiguration, ancient runes, dada, arithmancy, even astrology. She was never the first to volunteer an answer but she also never looked confused by the lessons. By the second or third week of compulsively watching her, I noticed a pattern. If we were practicing what was supposed to be a relatively easy spell, she would master after exactly three tries every time. A more difficult one would range from five to seven tries, but she always managed it. When I noticed her papers always alternated between Exceeds Expectations and Outstandings so that she was always on a borderline, I realized Phorkys was only feigning mediocrity when it came to magic. What the hell did that mean? If you have the ability, why try to hide it at all? And thus began my arduous process of stealing secrets.

It was three days into the investigation when I began to notice her noticing me. This was most definitely Phase Two of my master plan. You see, when it comes to women, I happen to be a master of the art of seducing. First, you watch them, always secretively, for a few days to learn their patterns: when they eat, sleep, who they associate with, that sort of thing. Once you feel you've learned everything you can from mere observation, you initiate Phase Two: let her see you looking at her. Look away immediately, act like a regular boy interested in a girl.

But Phorkys, being as utterly average in apparently everything but magic as she is, just looked right back. No blush, no giggle, no sultry stare or fluttering of eyelashes. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS CHIT? Oh, but it got worse. So very much worse. As we left the classroom, I waited for her to collect her things and approach me like all the others had. So when the girl just left without so much as a backwards glance, it felt like a slap in the face. (not that anyone would ever DARE to slap me.)

Now here I was jogging down the hallway, mussing me hair and running out of breath to catch up to a nobody, a nothing.

"Phorkys, wait I-"

"What is it Tom?"

Gone was the stuttering scaredy cat I had first run into. In her place stood confident and powerful witch. The edges of her skin rippled for a moment and I saw a flash of a porcelain face and long curled hair so black it was almost blue. When I saw Phorkys again, as she truly was, the only thing that remained of the vision was the haunting green eyes whose colors seemed to wave and melt like the ocean during a storm. All of the beauty was gone, sucked right back up into those beautiful eyes.

"I've never seen your eyes before." I managed to choke out through my shock.

And just like that, my stuttering, clumsy ditz of a girl was back. Wait a moment? _MY_ girl? Where the bloody hell did that come from?


End file.
